


One-handed Typing

by Omni



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Cybersex, M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omni/pseuds/Omni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles makes a cyber sex buddy who supposedly looks like a dark-haired version of his favorite character on his favorite show. Which, coincidentally enough, is also what Derek looks a hell of a lot like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One-handed Typing

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this valentine:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> It made me think of Stiles and cyber sex, what can I say? 
> 
> Also, this may try to pretend to have a real plot, but don't let it fool you.

It wasn't quite half past eleven at night, and Stiles was staring at an essay on _Beowulf_ that was only the intro paragraph and the three lines of the body. At first it had seemed like a good choice, when given the option between that and Chaucer, because as much as he loved Chaucer's sass, he thought he could relate to the whole taking down monsters aspect of _Beowulf_. Too bad Beowulf himself was a self-centered braggart that Chaucer would probably delight in mocking. Huh. Maybe he should write a paper about _that_. The professor might even award him a few extra points for combining both choices. 

No, no, he'd already done all of his research on the Christianification of the poem, and the paper was due in two days, with a minimum requirement of five pages. He _really_ could not afford to scrap all his work and start anew. 

Maybe what he really needed was to give his mind a break for a little bit and come back to his paper later. Yeah, that sounded good.

He started out just checking his Tumblr dashboard, reblogging a few things he thought were funny or hot. That led to Google searching, which led to forum stalking, which led him to a chat room for his current favorite show, _Chasing the Moon_. There were only four other people signed on when he entered, but at least they mostly seemed pretty active and engaging. 

\--  
 **Mercutio's Widow:** That's actually pretty accurate.

 **Lost and Found:** No. It's not. Mistletoe does fuck all to werewolves.

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Depends on the werewolf, Lost. Wolfsbane is good for a wide range, but there is actually a species that has a history concerning mistletoe.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** species? ur talking about this shit like its real...…its just a tv show! lol

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Of course it is. But it's based on things from actual myths and legends.  
\--

Stiles nodded, deciding he should jump in and add his own two cents as a folklore major (and as someone with hands-on experience in the supernatural).

\--  
 **Token Human:** She's right. On all fronts. I actually thought it was really cool that they made Mikhail and Sunny affected by mistletoe, since that ties in a lot of the Norse aspects of the show.  
\--

It was _almost_ like doing his assignment, since _Beowulf_ also pertained to Norse mythology. So, it wasn't like he was being too terribly negligent in his studies. He could totally just hang out in chat for the rest of the night and talk, purely for scholarly reasons. Yup.

\--  
 **Mercutio's Widow:** Thank you! Finally someone who actually knows something! No offense, Lost.

 **Lost and Found:** Hey!

 **Mercutio's Widow:** I said no offense! ;) You're actually really knowledgeable about this stuff. Just not about the mistletoe. 

**Lost and Found:** I've seriously never heard of that. And if it IS a thing, then it's still wrong.

 **Token Human:** Why? Have you asked a Nordic werewolf?

 **Sunglasses at Night:** lol!

 **Lost and Found:** Shut up.

 **Token Human:** I'm just saying. If werewolves were real, who's to say that there aren't variations, you know? Like with any animal.

 **Lost and Found:** I don't think that's how it works.

 **Mercutio's Widow:** It is.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** can we talk about something else?

 **Token Human:** Like what? This shit is fascinating.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** earlier I was trying to bring up what happened last episode

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Yeah, and you were an ass about it, and Words threatened to boot you. Just because she's afk right now doesn't mean you are free to resume your intolerant rambling.  
\--

Stiles figured "Words" was the person with the handle Words Like Blades, who was the only one signed on that wasn't talking. There was a little symbol next to the handle, which he assumed designated her as the moderator. 

\--  
 **Sunglasses at Night:** I was just saying that it didnt make sents!

 **Token Human:** What didn't make sense?

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Don't encourage him.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** Michale and Will!

 **Lost and Found:** It's MIKHAIL, dumbass. And, seriously, don't fucking start.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** but it doesnt make sents! MicHAIL is way too macho. I mean I can see Will liking it up the ass but not Michail

 **Token Human:** Wow, way to be an ignorant bigot, dude. 

**Lost and Found:** Seriously. I'm pretty much a dark-haired version of Mikhail (and there is a fucking K in there), and I catch as often as I pitch. Wouldn't mind catching more often, actually.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** thats gross

 **Token Human:** alkdjwoihbihekekweleYOU LOOK LIKE MIKHAIL?

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Uh-oh, Lost, looks like you're gonna have a fangirl now. XD

 **Token Human:** FanBOY, thank you very much! Well, fanman. I mean, I might only be in my twenties, but I'd hardly consider myself a boy. If we're playing the "who do you look like on CtM," I'd say I'm closest to Will, btw. And totally not just saying that to be a creeper and hit on the resident Mikhail look-alike. Only, I'm like way paler and have some freckles and shorter hair. But, like, body type and personality-wise? Yeah, totally Will.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** gay

 **Token Human:** Bi, actually, but close. Will is gay, though. Which, I totally called it. My friend owes me like fifty bucks.

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Ha! XD Personally, I'm still holding out for Sunny to hook up with Gyoshin. Those gals are totally my OTP.

 **Sunglasses at Night:** WHY IS THIS ENTIRE CHAT GAY NOW

 **Lost and Found:** You're the one who brought it up, asshole. Deal with it.

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Pfft. It could get REALLY gay in here and Lost and Token could put on a little show for us. How'd you like that, Night?

 **Sunglasses at Night:** u guys are sick

 **Lost and Found:** Shut the fuck up, or I will seriously take Widow's suggestion into account.

 **Token Human:** I can get on board with that. ;)

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Sweet! Sex out the bigot!

_Sunglasses at Night has logged off_

**Token Human:** HA! (But awwww…no sexytimes)

 **Mercutio's Widow:** LOL XD

 **Lost and Found:** Rain check, Token.

 **Token Human:** I am totally going to hold you to that.

 **Lost and Found:** Will reminds me a lot of a guy I know, and to be honest cybering with someone claiming to be like Will is probably the closest I'll ever get to being with him. So. Yeah, maybe sometime. That's what the internet is for, right?

 **Mercutio's Widow:** Aw, Lost. :( I can empathize, though. One of the reasons Sunny and Gyoshin are my OTP is because they remind me of myself and one of my best friends…so…yeah.

 **Token Human:** So we're all living vicariously through a TV show and internet cybering. Yeah, that's not depressing at all.

 **Lost and Found:** No one said you actually ever HAD to. If you're going to be a dick.

 **Token Human:** But I thought you wanted my dick? ;) And I didn't say I wouldn't want to. I haven't had real sex in longer than I'd like to think about. Plus, MIKHAIL, man. Da-yum. Who would want to pass that up, even if it was virtual?

 **Mercutio's Widow:** XD

 **Lost and Found:** What instant messenger do you use, Token? And can I get your handle?  
\--

Stiles hesitated for only a moment, then gave Lost the info. It really _had_ been a while since he'd gotten any, and he used to cyber rather frequently back in high school, so why the fuck not. He looked over at the poster of Mikail he had on his wall and unconsciously wet his lips. The character was broad-shouldered and cut like a fucking diamond, with tousled blond hair and piercing green eyes. In that particular poster, his shirt was nothing more than tattered rags barely clinging to his sweat-damp skin. A full moon shone bright above him, highlighting every muscle to full drool-educing effect.

When Lost pinged him in the instant messenger, he felt a heady mixture of thrill, relief, and nervousness. 

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Hey. This is Lost and Found.

 **TokenHuman:** Hey there! Why the name change?

 **SeeingRed:** Lost and Found was taken on here. 

**TokenHuman:** Ok if I still call you Lost?

 **SeeingRed:** That's fine. I usually go by that name at most places.  
 **SeeingRed:** So you know a lot about folklore? The way you and Widow were talking, it seemed like you were pretty well-versed.

 **TokenHuman:** Yeah, it's my major. It's something I got into back in high school, and it pretty much consumed my soul, ya know? How about you?

 **SeeingRed:** I've always been into it. I like CtM and its fandom because it allows me to talk about it more than I usually get to with people. 

**TokenHuman:** Well, feel free to talk folklore with me anytime! :) 

**SeeingRed:** I'd like that.  
 **SeeingRed:** Is…that other thing also still on the table?

 **TokenHuman:** I don't see why not. We can be cyber fuck buddies. Friends that relieve a bit of each other's tensions at times. How's that?

 **SeeingRed:** Ok. You'll have to be a bit patient with me, because I've never done it in textual format before. I had phone sex once, but not this.

 **TokenHuman:** I'll be gentle. ;) It's not much different from phone sex, except that it can get a bit harder to communicate as we go, once you only have one hand on the keyboard.

 **SeeingRed:** Heh, I can imagine.

 **TokenHuman:** Yeah. So, basically, you just tell me what you want to do to me, and I say what I want to do to you. Some people like it to be purely dialogue, like if it was phone sex. Others like to denote actions by bracketing them off or marking them with asterisks. Sort of like: *I run my hand up the inside of your thigh* 

**SeeingRed:** Which do you prefer? 

**TokenHuman:** I've done it either way and had fun. But we can start with dialogue, since that's more familiar ground for you.

 **SeeingRed:** And just tell you what I wantto do to you?

 **TokenHuman:** That's the idea, yeah.

 **SeeingRed:** What about what I want you to do to me?

 **TokenHuman:** Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.

 **SeeingRed:** I want to press you against a wall, but then I want you to push me back, to turn us around and change our positions. I want you to grin at me all smug and self-satisfied before taking my mouth in a kiss. I don't want you to be gentle or slow or sweet. It needs to be hard, demanding, like you've wanted it as much as I have, been waiting for it just as long.

 **TokenHuman:** I do. Fuck, but I do. You want me to take control, Lost? You want me to be the one to strip you, leaving my own clothes on, focusing only on you? I will. You're mine to look at and touch and taste. Keep your hands against the wall and just let me do everything.

 **SeeingRed:** Yes. I'll keep them there, I promise, no matter how much I want to feel you, too. 

**TokenHuman:** You'll get to later. Right now it's all about you, about touching and kissing and licking every gorgeous inch of you. Bet you have a nice cock, to go with the rest of you. It'll be hot and heavy in my hand, filling up as I stroke you. Are you cut?

 **SeeingRed:** Uncut. You?

 **TokenHuman:** Cut. Can I fondle the skin? Do you like that?

 **SeeingRed:** Yes. fuck 

**TokenHuman:** Are you touching yourself now, thinking about me doing it to you?

 **SeeingRed:** Yes. don't stop.  
\--

Stiles leaned back a little in his computer chair and released his dick from his pants, running his fingers teasingly along it before returning both hands to the keyboard.

\--  
 **TokenHuman:** Me, too. I wish it was you, though. Wish your hand was on me and my hand on you. But I also want to do more. You said you like to catch?

 **SeeingRed:** fuck. yes I just. hold on, have to get lube.

 **TokenHuman:** Do you have any toys? If so, get one. I'd like you to fuck yourself with it while I tell you everything I want to do to you.

 **SeeingRed:** yes I yeahok go on don't stop

 **TokenHuman:** I'd want to turn you around and press your front to the wall. Then I'd sink to my knees and bite at the cheeks of that perfect fucking ass of yours. Spread those pert cheeks wide and lick and nibble at your hole. Press my tongue in, fuck you open and get you nice and wet with my spit until I can work a finger in, too. 

**SeeingRed:** jesuschrist

 **TokenHuman:** Oh, you like that? Good, because I like doing it. I like watching you fall apart because of me, like feeling you tremble and clench around me. You're so strong, but I can make your legs go weak, can't I?

 **SeeingRed:** yes fuckyes

 **TokenHuman:** I'll take some lube and slick you open further with my fingers, standing back up to press against your side while I finger you. Bite at your shoulder and neck and nibble on your ear while I work you wider and wider. Are you ready for me yet?  
\--

Taking a hand away from the keyboard, Stiles stroked his now aching cock in earnest, waiting for Lost's reply. There was a satisfying delay, that he hoped meant Lost was losing himself in getting fucked by a dildo. Christ, just that mental picture alone was nearly enough to do Stiles in.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** fuck me  
 **SeeingRed:** do it hard  
 **SeeingRed:** fast. can't hold for much longer

 **TokenHuman:** me too  
 **TokenHuman:** Christ I want to feel you, want to be deep inside you taking you so hard just like you want it. fuck  
\--

Stiles had to break away from the keyboard again to touch himself. One hand was wrapped firmly around his dick, working it fast, desperately, while the other hand cupped and fondled his balls, fingers slipping back to press at his perineum. 

Neither of them typed for a while, and Stiles knew that Lost was close, maybe even coming. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture it—picture a dark-haired Mikhail fucking himself on a chair, legs spread wide and mouth parted around pants and groans. What he envisioned was Derek, and the shock of that was overpowered by the jolting sparks of his orgasm. 

\-------------

A couple days later, Stiles was trying to keep himself awake in his poli-sci class by playing on his laptop under the guise of taking notes. There was a reason he had chosen a seat at the very back of that class, and one that was strategically next to an outlet. When his chat messenger flashed, he eagerly clicked to view it in order to find another helpful distraction. Seeing that it was Lost was just an added bonus, and his lips curled up into a smile.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Did you know that the guy who plays Jean-Paul was in a really bad horror flick about alien zombies? Like, five years ago? And that he’s actually fucking ripped. Goddamn.

 **TokenHuman:** Hah! I did not, no. Well, I knew he wasn’t as sickly looking as they make him out to be on the show, because I’d seen some photos of the actor himself. What movie is it?

 **SeeingRed:** Dead Star Alpha. 

**TokenHuman:** I’ve heard of that! It’s actually not supposed to be that bad. I keep meaning to see it. Too bad I’m in class right now, or we could watch it together.

 **SeeingRed:** How can we watch it together? I don’t even know if you’re in the same country as I am.

 **TokenHuman:** It’s easy! We designate a time to watch it, log on, then each press play at the exact same time. Then we just keep up a running commentary in chat while we watch. It’s like being right next to each other. ;) (And I’m in the USA, btw. You?)

 **SeeingRed:** Huh. Well, I’m only about ten minutes into this. I could always hold off until later. You free tonight?

 **TokenHuman:** Nothing but essays and other assorted assignments taking up my evening, so yes absolutely! How about 7:30? Oh, er, and Pacific time.

 **SeeingRed:** Works for me. I’m west coast, too.

 **TokenHuman:** Great! Then it’s a date! ;)

 **SeeingRed:** Looking forward to it. 

\----------

Stiles was logged in at 7, polishing off his last slice of leftover pizza and feeling perhaps too excited about a movie date with a complete stranger over the internet. For all he knew, Lost was some greasy old, fat, balding guy that still lived in his mother’s basement and spent his days being a creeper online. After all, the likelihood that his guy really looked like Mikhail was slim. He could only think of one guy he knew in real life who could pull off Mikhail’s look, and Stiles spent a lot of time around people that were supernaturally hot. So, really, he shouldn’t be feeling like it was an actual date or anything. 

Lost signed on and Stiles choked down the rest of his slice before rushing to wash his hands (he loved his laptop too much to get pizza grease all over it, ew). 

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Hi there. You got the movie ready?

 **TokenHuman:** Yup! Push play on the count of three?  
 **TokenHuman:** One  
 **TokenHuman:** Two  
 **TokenHuman:** Three! Press play!  
-  
-  
20 minutes in..  
-  
-  
 **TokenHuman:** Goddamn.

 **SeeingRed:** My reaction exactly. Not every day they make the obligatory shower scene be of a guy.

 **TokenHuman:** Totally not complaining. Also, I feel soooo bad for Kitt now, having him always pushing her away. I mean, what’s with that, anyway? She’s hot.

 **SeeingRed:** Jean-Paul is a ghost, and Kitt is part of the enemy side.

 **TokenHuman:** Psh, I think the ghost thing is a lieeeee. And Hati is not “the enemy,” it’s just a group with a differing opinion.

 **SeeingRed:** How can you LIE about being a ghost? Hati is run by SATAN, of course it’s evil.

 **TokenHuman:** If you knew anything about Judeo-Christian mythology, you’d not think that to be nearly so bad. But, in any case, the Chairman is totally not satan. He’s something much older. And totally not evil. Just misunderstood. I can’t believe you haven’t figured out who he is, though. I thought it was totally obvious.  
 **TokenHuman:** And you can lie about being a ghost if you are a strigoi, striga, värcolac, and other assorted beings who project their spirits and wander the night as ghost-like apparitions. 

**SeeingRed:** If the Chairman isn’t Satan, who is he?  
 **SeeingRed:** …Good point about the other things. Shit, I totally didn’t even think about that. Also, we’re ignoring the movie and Jean-Paul is being a BAMF, wtf...!

 **TokenHuman:** The Chairman is LOKI, duh. C’mon, it’s GLARINGLY obvious. All the Norse themes and allusions. The fiery hair he’s rocking. His grudge against Hayes, who is a grizzled old soldier with one eye and loves books and poetry and is TOTALLY ODIN. Jesus, man. Have you even been watching the sho-oh, hello there, Jean-Paul. You can certainly kick ass when you aren’t be all Zen and pacifistic. Wow.

 **SeeingRed:** I know, right? Did you see what he did to that one alien zombie, or were you too busy ranting at me about my lack of Norse knowledge?

 **TokenHuman:** It’s just sad, man. I will totally have to lay some learning down on your ass so you can enjoy the show more.

 **SeeingRed:** I enjoy the show just fine. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you laying something down on my ass. *eyebrow waggle*

 **TokenHuman:** You are so adorkable, oh my Norse Gods. Like, seriously, what is your Will THINKING? How is he not all over you?

 **SeeingRed:** Well, considering he’s very straight…it cuts down on his desire to bend me over random surfaces.

 **TokenHuman:** Naw, I refuse to believe that any man can be straight around someone who even remotely resembles Mikhail. Especially when he delivers intentionally ridiculous pick-up lines that make me totally want to make-out with him.

 **SeeingRed:** It’s a good thing we’re in the very back of the theater, so no one will see. Would you like some of the popcorn I’ve placed on my lap? You have to leave it on my lap, though. For reasons.

 **TokenHuman:** Pfffft. If this was a real world movie date, I would totally willfully fall for your ploy there. ;)

 **SeeingRed:** Would be the best movie date. Ever.

 **TokenHuman:** It could still be. 

**SeeingRed:** I thought you wanted to see this movie?

 **TokenHuman:** And I do. But right now, I’m getting a bit distracted and I like it. We can always try watching the movie again later.

 **SeeingRed:** You don’t think the same thing’s going to happen then, too? 

**TokenHuman:** Well, if it does, it’s entirely your fault. For being so distracting.

 **SeeingRed:** Uh-huh.

 **TokenHuman:** Are you saying you DON’T want me to go down on your butter-flavored cock?

 **SeeingRed:** Well, when you put it that way…

 **TokenHuman:** If this was a real life date, and we were tucked into the back of the theater, I’d slip to my knees on the floor, moving between your spread legs. I’d run my hands up the insides of your thighs, feeling them tremble in anticipation, watching you watch me with parted lips and hooded eyes. You have to stay quiet, I’d whisper, smirking up at you. 

**SeeingRed:** Fucking love your smirk.

 **TokenHuman:** Does your Will smirk? Is that who you’re picturing when I describe these things? It’s fine if he is. There’s…someone I think of, too. Someone I know who looks a bit like Mikhail, but with black hair. Like you.

 **SeeingRed:** Yes. You’re sure it’s fine?

 **TokenHuman:** Of course. We’re each other’s proxies, remember? Already established. Just internet buddies who help scratch each other’s itches.

 **SeeingRed:** Yeah

 **TokenHuman:** And right now, I’ve got a bit of an itch, deep down, that I really need you to scratch. ;)

 **SeeingRed:** Hah! Now who has the ridiculous pick-up lines?

 **TokenHuman:** I think we’ve gotten off topic here…  
 **TokenHuman:** Attention back on me, Lost. On your Will. Kneeling between your legs and fingering the buckle of your belt. I’d slide it slowly open, not wanting to make it jingle and alert anyone else in the theater.

 **SeeingRed:** Love watching your hands work. Your fingers. Jesus.

 **TokenHuman:** You like my fingers? Like thinking of the things they can do to you?

 **SeeingRed:** Yes. You’ve no idea how distracting you are. With those hands, and those LIPS, Christ. If I had you like this, kneeling between my legs, I’d want to touch your face, your cheeks, your lips. Want to feel those lips beneath the pad of my thumb, feel them pull me in, feel your tongue slide along my skin.

 **TokenHuman:** I’d give you a taste of exactly what I want to do with you. Suck in your thumb and get it all slick and wet, let my teeth scrape gently along it. 

**SeeingRed:** When I pull my hand away, your lips will be all glistening with spit, parted and waiting for more. 

**TokenHuman:** You gonna give me more, Lost? 

**SeeingRed:** I finish the task you started, getting my fly open and drawing my dick out. I stroke it slowly, pointing the head towards your mouth and watching you, watching the way your breathing picks up. You want it. 

**TokenHuman:** Fuck yes I do. I lean forward and stretch out my tongue, letting the tip of it make contact first, licking at the leaking slit and playing at the foreskin. It’s not enough, though. I want more. 

**SeeingRed:** It’s all yours. Take it. Take as much as you can.

 **TokenHuman:** I do. I slide my mouth down over it, wrapping my wet lips tightly around you and curling my tongue along the length. You’ll still be stroking yourself, and my lips bump your fingers, tongue peaks out to lick at them. You get the hint and move your hand away, letting me take in more. More. I swallow around you to make it easier.

 **SeeingRed:** Christ

 **TokenHuman:** Once I’m as far as I can go, my nose buried in your pubes, I groan and just enjoy the burning stretch.

 **SeeingRed:** oh fuck just that image alone  
 **SeeingRed:** fuck

 **TokenHuman:** I slowly pull back, my mouth trying to suck you back in even as I pull away.

 **SeeingRed:** you really like this dont you? sucking cock

 **TokenHuman:** Fuck yes, I do. Also, I can tell YOU’RE really enjoying this. Your ability to use grammar correctly flies out the window. Only typing with one hand? 

**SeeingRed:** can you blame me? dont stop

 **TokenHuman:** I won’t. I don’t want to. I want to watch you come undone by my mouth alone. Want to keep sucking you, working you with my mouth and tongue and just the faintest brush of teeth. You’ll slide down a bit in your seat, your chest heaving and your mouth dropped open as you pant softly into that loud, crowded theater. I’ll see you clutching an armrest, and draw that hand over to clutch my hair instead. Show you that it’s ok to press me. Ok to fuck my mouth. Do it. I want it.

 **SeeingRed:** shit  
 **SeeingRed:** i can’t much longer god  
 **SeeingRed:** yes fuck your mouth want to so much

 **TokenHuman:** Just the thought of getting you off like this is making me so hard. I reach between my legs, get my own fly open and my dick in my hand. Won’t take much, already so close from watching you, tasting you.  
\--

Which, that was the truth. Stiles took his hands away from the keyboard to tear open his fly and palm his cock. The chat fell silent while they both took care of themselves. Stiles closed his eyes and tilted his head back and replayed that fictional scene again. He was kneeling between Derek’s legs, sucking Derek’s dick, watching Derek fall apart. 

His toes curled when he came.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** fucking hell  
 **SeeingRed:** goddamn  
 **SeeingRed:** brb gotta clean myself up

 **TokenHuman:** heh not a bad idea me too

\----------

Summer vacation was in a few days, and Stiles was both excited and nervous about heading back home for a few months. He would occasionally make the train ride up on weekends and such, but that was different. Summer meant prolonged exposure to Derek. Before becoming cyber sex buddies with Lost, Stiles felt fairly confident that he could keep his crush under wraps. It was mutable, controllable. It wasn’t like he didn’t have many years of practice when it came to unrequited crushing. 

But ever since Lost, it became more difficult to deny what he really wanted. He and Lost chatted on a nearly daily basis, having cyber sex almost just as often. Every single time, Stiles imagined he was doing the things he was typing to Derek. 

It had gotten so bad that last night he had spent four hours long-distance crying on Scott’s shoulder over Skype. Though very little crying was actually involved. Mostly it was bitching and griping and groaning.

His cell beeped, drawing his attention away from packing, and his thoughts away from Derek. At least, until he picked it up and saw who had just texted him.

**Derek**  
 _You’re back in town tomorrow, yeah?_

**To: Derek**  
Sure am, chief. What’s up?

**Derek**  
 _Was wondering if you’d like to come over for a bit Friday night? Have some dinner and play catch-up._

Oh. Oh, shit, Stiles would like. Stiles would like that very much. Except that Stiles was fairly certain it was just Alpha watching over his pack stuff, and had absolutely no romantic or even base sexual overtones to it. Thus, Stiles would end up not liking it. It would, in fact, be some form of torture to be alone with the object of his affection and sexual fantasies, while trying to pretend that nothing had changed. 

Luckily, he had an excuse to get out of it.

 **To: Derek**  
Can’t, sorry. Scott and Danny are taking me out.

**Derek**  
 _He never mentioned anything about that. Where?_

Stiles hesitated, then shrugged and figured “what the hell.” It wasn’t like he was ashamed.

 **To: Derek**  
To Jungle. Scott’s on a mission to get me laid. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a lost cause. But at least he promised me free drinks.

When there wasn’t a reply from Derek for a while, Stiles felt irrationally concerned that he’d just ruined something. It wasn’t like Derek was a prude or a homophobe, though, so Stiles wasn’t sure why Derek would take Stiles’ text so poorly.

Just as he was about to force himself to stop thinking about it and focus on his packing, his phone let out another beep.

 **Derek**  
 _I haven’t been there in a while. Room for one more?_

The phone fell out of fingers gone lax in shock.

\----------

“Stiles, I hardly see how this is going to help you get over—”

Slapping a hand over Scott’s mouth, Stiles shushed him loudly, the hiss of it nearly getting lost in the pounding club music. When Scott gave him a curious look, Stiles just rolled his eyes and flicked Scott pointedly in the ear, mouthing “werewolf.” 

“Trust me, it’s nearly impossible for even us to hear over this music,” Scott assured after tearing his friend’s hand away from his lips. “And, seriously, what were you _thinking_? Why would you think it would be a good idea to bring him along? You realize you’re going to have to watch guys hit on him all night, right?”

“Shut up, Scott. Just shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you just go dance with him?” Danny asked from Stiles’ other side. He took a slow sip from his whisky neat as he returned some heated eye fucking by a guy at another table. 

Stiles glanced over to the bar, where Derek was getting his and Stiles’ next round. The men around him were all leaning in a bit close, smiling a bit wide, and trying a bit too hard to find an excuse to touch him. Even the bartender was obviously smitten. Derek, however, just seemed concerned with getting the drinks.

“No way.” Stiles shook his head and wished he had another full glass of rum and coke to down. Though maybe he should switch to a Long Island ice tea. Initially the plan had been to stay sober enough to keep his wits about him, but he was starting to like the idea of getting shitfaced drunk. “I cannot do that. That would be suicide. Or at least be a huge step backwards in this whole building friendship bridges thing, or whatever.”

Danny pulled his eyes away from the other guy long enough to give Stiles an incredulous look. “You’re serious. You really think that one dance will ruin anything you two have? Because I thought you wanted to try to be something _more_ than friends, and finally getting your hands around each other and undulating in a suggestive manner would probably do wonders for that.”

“Or piss him off, because he’s _not interested_ ,” Stiles seethed between grit teeth.

“If he’s not interested, I will…I will… Scott, give me a good wager for me to place on this bet. What should I do if I’m wrong?”

Scott blinked at Danny, then gave a little shrug. “I dunno. Kiss a girl?”

“Oh, _real_ original, McCall.” Danny gave him a dismissive wave and focused back on Stiles. “I don’t know. I’ll do something humiliating, your choice, if it turns out I’m wrong.”

“And if you’re right?”

Shrugging, Danny took another pull from his drink. “Then I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing a friend be happy for once.”

“Awwww, Danny. I think I’m gonna cry.” Stiles pretended to sniffle and wiped at his eye. “C’mere, you sweet thing, you, and give me a hug!” Laughing, he fell on Danny, drawing him into a tight embrace that had them rocking in their seats.

Derek slammed Stiles’ drink down in front of him so hard he was surprised the glass didn’t crack. It had Stiles jolting back fully into his own chair while Danny snickered into his drink. “You’re getting next round,” Derek snapped before tossing back something that looked like water but had fumes strong enough Stiles could smell it from across the table.

“Jesus, Derek, what the hell are you drinking? Rocket fuel?” Wrinkling his nose, Stiles pulled his own sugary drink closer. 

“Close enough.” Derek shrugged and spun his now empty glass along the dirty wooden surface. He seemed to be frowning more than usual, and he had barely looked Stiles in the eye all night. “Everclear. Only thing that gets us even remotely buzzed, and even that takes an ungodly amount.”

“Any reason in particular you want to get drunk, Derek?” Danny was smiling pleasantly while he asked, but Stiles knew the guy well enough to know that was pretty much Danny’s equivalent to a know-it-all smirk. Derek shot him a dark glare and stormed off back to the bar.

Stiles watched him go, sipping distractedly at his fresh drink. “Huh. What’s crawled up his butt and died?”

“Gee, I wonder.” Danny hummed and went back to eyeing up the guy from earlier.

“Stiles!” Scott knocked shoulders with him and motioned with his chin across the room. “That guy is totally checking you out. And, I know it’s not me or Danny, because if I strain _really_ hard I can make out some of what he’s saying to his buddy. Totally hot for you, dude.”

Leaning into Scott’s space a bit, Stiles followed his line of sight to a decently handsome guy with shaggy brown hair and sweet puppy eyes. “He’s. Um. Cute. I guess.”

Beside him, Scott huffed and stole a sip from Stiles’ drink. “That’s, like, the fourth guy you’ve vetoed, man. No one is going to be as hot as—as you-know-who in your eyes, but we didn’t come out here for you to find your soul mate. We came here so you could get laid. So, go get laid!”

“Scott, you are an ass.”

“ _Thank_ you, Danny! Words right out of my mouth.”

“ _I’m_ an ass? Me? The one who volunteered to take time away from his totally smoking hot girlfriend to hang out at a club with a bunch of dudes in the—evidently all in vain—attempt to get his best friend laid? How does this make me an ass?”

“He’s _pining_ , Scott.”

Stiles squawked and punched Danny on the shoulder. “Fuck you, I’m not pining!”

“You are totally pining. And the object of this pining is totally getting propositioned by a fucking _Adonis_ at the bar, oh my god. Stiles, don’t look.” Danny grabbed Stiles’ face, which of course, coupled with his words, made Stiles want to look all the more. Not that he wanted to see Derek getting hit on by someone who could put Stiles to shame. It was just curiosity. Of the most morbid sense. 

Ripping himself away, Stiles turned to get a good look at his competition (as if he was even in the running). The soda and rum started roiling in his stomach, and he stood up so fast his chair fell back, its clanging death muted by the pounding beat of the music on the speakers and Stiles’ heart in his ears. “I need to get some air. I’ll. I’ll be right back.” Which was a lie. He had no intention of stepping foot back into that bar.

Once he was in the parking lot, taking in large lungfuls of fresh night air, Stiles found himself digging in his pockets for his phone. He had installed the app for the instant messenger service he used whenever he talked to Lost, and he hoped to hell that the man was currently logged on. Scott had been supportive, and Danny was great, but he needed someone who really understood. Lost got it. Lost was in the same boat he was, being hopelessly gone on someone who would never give him a second glance. 

He sagged against the car beside him when he saw that SeeingRed was indeed signed on, and quickly clicked to begin a chat. 

\--  
 **TokenHuman:** This really sucks. This whole unrequited thing, you know?  
\--

There was no immediate response, and Stiles kept fiddling with his phone and gnawing on his lip as he stared at the glowing screen. Behind him, he could hear the club’s door open and shut, someone taking a few steps out before coming to a stop. Whoever it was must also have needed to step out for a bit to text someone, because he heard the distinctive tapping of a text in the making. A soft chime rang out in the night, and the man near the door sighed.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Yeah. What’s worse is that I just found out that my Will is not nearly as straight as I had thought. Which just tells me that it’s me he’s not interested in, not necessarily men in general. 

**TokenHuman:** I seriously can’t believe that. And also, strangely enough, am experiencing the same problem on my end. Found out that my Mikhail swings both ways, like me, but evidently just doesn’t swing my way. Which…is understandable, considering he’s like HOT DAMN, and I’m like…meh.  
\--

A deeper chime sounded from the other man’s phone, and he began clacking away at his keys again before making the original chime reprise.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Stop selling yourself short. Your Mikhail is an idiot if he can’t see how great you are. 

**TokenHuman:** Well, no argument there. But I think it’s hard for him to see past the fucking Greek god that was just chatting him up. Maybe my friends are right and I should just try to get over him. Go back into the club and find someone and…it would be easier if he wasn’t here, too. If he wasn’t RIGHT THERE, so that I’m unable to see anyone else in the place but him.  
\--

Again the deeper chime sounded and the man immediately started typing his response, but something about it all made the hairs start to prickle on the back of Stiles’ neck. 

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** You’re at a club, too?  
\--

Stiles stared down at the message that popped onto his screen immediately following the sound of the other man’s outbound message. His hand twitched around his phone and he straightened up to turn slowly around to face the club. He was standing pretty far out in the lot, so he stepped back through the maze of cars to better see the door and the man standing beneath the bright glow of the sign. 

Before he could see anything more than broad shoulders and a head of dark hair bent over a cell phone, another chime rang out and Stiles’ phone vibrated in his palm.

\--  
 **SeeingRed:** Of course. It was so obvious. I can’t believe I didn’t see it from the start. You even have the same fucking major.  
\--

Stopping short, Stiles swallowed and tried to calm his heart. He looked up to find the man—Derek, of course it was Derek—staring back at him.

“Derek.” Stiles shook his head, taking another step closer. “Lost.”

“What should I call you, then?” Derek asked, pocketing his phone but making no move to close the distance. “Token? _My Will_?” His face was twisted in something like anger, but Stiles knew it for what it was. Knew that insecurities lingered just beneath the rough-edged surface of Derek’s walls, put there by a psycho with a pretty smile. Trust was an elusive thing with Derek, hard to gain and easy to lose. 

Squaring his shoulders, Stiles strode purposefully across the last few feet between them. “Is this where I say something cheesy like ‘Call me yours?’” He reached out and felt his heart trip over itself in how Derek just let him grab him by his stupid leather jacket and pull him close. “I didn’t know it was you,” Stiles whispered, smoothing a hand down Derek’s arm. 

Derek swayed into his touch, his arms coming up to wrap around Stiles’ waist as he turned his head to inhale along Stiles’ neck. “Stiles.”

“I wanted it to be. I imagined it was. Everything I had with Lost, I wanted to have with you. The chatting, the geeking out over things…”

“The sex.” Derek was smiling against Stiles’neck, and it made Stiles smile, as well.

He lifted a hand up to run fingers through Derek’s hair, scraping his nails gently along the scalp. “Oh, definitely the sex.”

The arms around Stiles’ waist tightened, and the mouth at his neck began to nip and kiss and lick in the most delicious of ways. “All those things you said. All those things you described. _Christ_.” He nipped at Stiles’ ear. “We’re going home. Now.”

“We should probably say bye to Scott and—”

Derek’s hands dipped down the back of Stiles’ pants and grabbed his ass. “ _Now_.”

“Or, we could just ditch them and go now. Now is good. Now is _great_.”

Chuckling softly, Derek drew back just enough to pull Stiles into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> There were a lot of weird formatting issues when I posted this. I think I fixed all of them, but if you happened across any parts where words were smushed together or anything odd like that, please let me know. Thanks! :)


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